


Control

by tradrishanally



Series: The United States of Chaos* (*Read: America) [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Statetalia
Genre: Gen, Texas Revolution, Texas War for Independence, This Is Sad, Xavier Deserves Better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 05:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17502683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tradrishanally/pseuds/tradrishanally
Summary: I'm well acquainted with villains that live in my head.They be me to write them so they'll never die when I'm dead.[Halsey- Control]Loosely based off the Song





	Control

It wouldn’t be a problem if there was one hive-mind solution to it- and their solution for the longest time was to avoid all confrontation. That can only work so well.

It didn’t help that all their triggers were different- Papá’s was physical pain with a discernible source, Grandpa’s was a fear of royal retribution. Aunt Lora’s was triggered by verbal abuse, and he’s only heard the _stories_ about what happened between her and Carlos. A few of his siblings had shown it, but they were so young, it shouldn’t show.

He’d been living with Marina for a few years, just to get away from the family- they’d been going throughout his land and hers to see everything. The people spoke too much in a sense- they spoke of how different they were from the rest of the country. They spoke about the political differences, they spoke about what _Sam Houston_ was saying.

When they’d came back everything was different. They all were tenser than they had been before.  

It started with everyone yelling at him for his people. They’d yell and go on about how they were causing an uprising and that it was going to be terrible for them. They’d do all of this and then they’d get the fruits of their labour when he cries and leaves to his room. (It comfort him to hear Papá’s yelling through the floor.)

Papá made it a point to make sure he was okay; he knew the cruelty of people and of words. He’d hold him and tell him that it will be over soon and that they didn’t know what he was going through with it. He’d run his hands through his hair to calm him down while he cried because the rest didn’t know it was that big of a problem.

It didn’t matter. The people were going to get what they want.

><><><><

He could compare the fighting to being sent off to find a treasure, diamonds, gold, but in his case- freedom. The treasure was guarded by those who want to keep it where it had been for however long it was there.

He’d left the house before the reaction to his willing revolt, and the anxiety of his family finding out where he was and coming after him. He can remember the bargain for work on a ranch in Béxar so he could have a place to stay, how he’d tentatively told the owner about his almost immortality and the weight of the situation so no one in the family would ask questions. He doesn’t tell them about the triggers and the weight they hold. Nobody can know; he’d be resented- left to die at the very best- if he told.

Their daughter, Ester, was physically older than him, around 17, and he can remember her holding him when he bolted awake, crying because they could be coming for him at this moment.

Work kept his mind off of it, and tending to cows was more fun that being a ball of nerves in his room over something that might not happen.

Then Gonzales happened.

><><><><

He can feel the pain of war, he’d experienced it with Papá’s independence but he’d never believe that it could be this painful. He could feel every boot on his land and every gun being fired- nothing has ever been this painful.

He could compare it to the feeling of your skin ripping- when your tormentor slices up just enough to have a grip and then rips it off and you can hear the tearing sound and all it does is burn.  It’s _wrong wrong wrong_ but the satisfaction from the people is _right right right_.

><><><><

It’s his decision to not become a part of it. He has it good with a place to stay people to care about and a promising keep if Ester's husband doesn’t want the land. He has a roof over his head, food on the table, and all the amenities he needs.

He doesn’t want to fight in this war because he knows that his siblings will be there, ready to annihilate him and then shun him for ever letting his people dictate his thoughts. He doesn’t want to fight for fear of more pain because what he was feeling was already too much. He doesn’t want to fight because of _it_.

He’s thinking so much that he doesn’t hear esther sit down next to him or even start speaking. “ _Mi esposo estaba diciendo que no quería terminar tomando la propiedad a favor de ir a la costa y tal vez ir a algo peligroso como bucear con perlas_ . _Es tonto_.” She laughs a hearty laugh at her husband’s ideas and antics. Who would give up something profitable to do something that won’t be as promising as a stable ranch?

“ _Él está siendo estúpido_ . ¿ _Por qué renunciar a la comodidad para tener la oportunidad de enriquecerse con perlas_?” It was stupid to him. The chance to strike it rich was already low, but he’d purposely be trying to make a low chance a high one.

She laughs again and looks to her husband through the open door as he says something that makes her father shake his head and raise his voice to him. “¿ _En qué estabas pensando, aquí solo_?” She gives a sober, curious look.

What had he been thinking of other than everything. “ _Mi familia. Su reacción ante la guerra, la revuelta activa. Papá ha pasado por unos pocos por su propia independencia y probablemente habrá más. Mis hermanos, sin embargo, no lo han hecho. Tienen todas las razones para que me resientan por estar de acuerdo con eso. Es mi tierra,_ ¿ _desde cuándo mi opinión no cuenta_?” They treat him like he’s lesser for believing in his own ideas and his own independence- they treated Papá like an idol for his own revolt, why was it different?

The cool air almost left him unable to breathe, even the atmosphere was judging him.

Ester nods in understanding. “ _Dime un secreto_.”

Xavier shudders, that was a dangerous question. The things he could say on impulse could get him thrown out, left for dead. He doesn’t register himself speaking until he’s already said it, “ _Cuando me enojo, generalmente es por ninguna razón o por una buena razón. Todos mis familiares tienen este trastorno en el cual, si nos haces algo con mala intención, puede causar una mala reacción. Como enojo realmente malo, casi una explosión_.”

His mind is frantically yelling at him to stop while his mouth goes on and on. “ _Me temo que si mis hermanos lo activan, desatarán eso. Ni siquiera sé cómo actuaría en ese estado de ánimo. Solo he escuchado historias sobre mi familia en ese estado de ánimo, sobre sus planes diabólicos y las muertes que siguen. Tengo miedo de eso_.”

Ester is in a frozen state of shock when he stops. Triggered unbridled fury, fear of your family because of it, fear of it in itself? Where was he getting this from? Why was he saying that as his secret?

He feels sick when she leaves without another word.

><><><><

The General brings the war to him and the world fall around him. The city is barricaded and the troops won’t leave.

He hides behind a facade and scouts the troops for any familiar faces and he’s relieved to find none at first glance. He lets his guard down and then he hears the chime of “Xavier?” from behind him.

He stops dead in his tracks and doesn’t turn around, and he tries to walk off when the voices calls out again, “XAVIER!” That makes him reluctantly turn around.

He can feel the sting on his face from the slap, a feeling he’d only experienced once before. He can hear the garbled yelling from one of them. He can hear the soldiers yelling at his brother to stop disobeying orders or some bullshit like that.

He can’t tell when he pushed them to the ground and started smashing their shoulder in with a rock. He can’t tell when he got up and left them. He doesn’t know when he got back to the ranch.

><><><><

“ _Papá no es feliz_.”

Marina stands in front of him and he can see the disappointment on her face. Xavier doesn’t look up or respond in any way- he’s too ashamed of himself. He’d shattered Nuevo León’s shoulder with a rock and then left looking as if he wished he would have done more.

“ _Hermanito, háblame_ ,” she tries, her eyes welling with tears as she crouches into his line of vision. He physically feels like he can’t talk.

“ _Lo siento_.”

His mind doesn’t register what he’s saying- and he is sorry. He doesn’t know what came over him or why he couldn’t control it at all.

“ _Hermanito, me estás asustando_.” He lets out a laugh- she’s scared of him when she knows that he would most likely have it.

“ _Te extraño, y lamento haberte asustado_.” He looks up and meet her eyes and he doesn’t know what he sees.

><><><><

The fighting goes on and on and he doesn’t know whether or not he’s even proud of the effort. His delegates has issued a declaration of his independence, his people were all for it, and he was worried for how bad it could end up being.

Pains from the battles didn’t even faze him anymore. He thought he’d experienced the worst of it when he goes up to San Antonio for a change of scenery.

He walks right into the aftermath of a bloodbath, almost a thousand dead and the last of those that he can distinctly feel as his are surrendering.

An enemy soldier sees him, unarmed, confused, scared and takes a shot. He runs as fast as he can, holding his hand to his bleeding ear.

(He’ll hate himself for ever regarding his Papá’s soldiers as an enemy. )

><><><><

The mother tells him when he wakes up that they couldn’t find the bullet, but it wasn’t likely that there was an exit wound. He groans when he feels the cold liquid being poured over his ear. He bites his lip hard when the stinging heightens.

><><><><

The bandages block all of the sounds of the house, making it eerily quiet as he paces through his room. He can’t stand to be helpless until his ear heals, but the family isn’t letting him budge. There’s a noise loud enough that he could hear it and he jumps.

He runs the thought of how anxious he’s becoming through his mind.

(He only learns about the father’s stroke and death when the mother confronts him about why he didn’t go to find him.)

><><><><

“ _Quiero ir a pelear_ ,” Xavier mumbles to nothing.

“¿ _No has estado peleando_ ? _Yo esperaría más de ti_ ,” a shockingly familiar voice sounds. Marina, in all her glory, stands in the door frame. Of course his family would expect him to fight, even with _it_ . She laughs loudly at his shock and freezes when he winces from the sound. “¿ _Qué pasó, hermanito_?”

“ _Herida de bala_.” He looks down and rubs the perimeter of the stitches- it was probably infected at some point.

“ _Hermanito, no te mereces esto_ .” Marina gently brushes her fingers over the wound. Everything she’s ever done was gentle. He can’t imagine her ever being harsh. “¿ _Por qué quieres pelear_?”

“ _Así que todo habrá terminado_.” The reason is nothing compared to everything he could have said. He hasn’t fought once and, to him, the war had been going on for forever. Marina nods as she sits down and pulls him into her arms.

“ _Todo se ha ido al infierno desde que te fuiste, hermanito. Nadie es feliz y algunos de ellos te quieren muerto. Ya casi no parecemos ser una familia. Sigo escapando para alejarme de todo_ ,” Marina never lets her mouth run, and she seems so out of it that she probably isn’t filtering her words. Nobody is happy in a war, and he isn’t surprised that some of them want him dead.

“Marina, _hermana_ ,” He stresses as her grip tightens around him and her face scrunches up and the tears start falling. Everything regarding this situation, the fact that, most likely, nobody knows she’s here, is _wrong wrong wrong_ , but he has his sister again and it’s _right right right_.

“ _Por favor, hermanito. No pelees, pero si lo haces, no te lastimes._ ”

><><><><

He wants to, but he knows that he shouldn’t. War is terrible and lives are ruined because of it. Families are torn apart because of it. He doesn’t want to become another number in the death toll and he doesn’t want to idly wait for his people to win or lose.

He goes to the next battle, ready for anything his family’s people will throw at him.

He wakes up bandages around his thigh and sharp pain whenever he moves it.

><><><><

The soldiers tell of the capture of Santa Anna, relaying the information in hushed whispers. When it eventually gets to him, she doesn’t know whether it’s a good or bad.

He decides that it’s both.

><><><><

Papá and Marina show up a bit later. The house and property are formally his, but he wasn’t expecting any sort of visitors.

Marina takes one look at his limp and immediately begins yelling about how he didn’t listen to her at all and she only stops when she sees that he’s visibly in pain. Marina slaps her hand over her mouth and some muffled apology resounds.

Papá doesn’t show any emotion until Marina suggest that they both _sit their asses down and let her make them something to drink_. Anyone familiar with the tone of a doting mother knows that tone. You can’t disagree with her or you’ll get the look of ultimate disappointment.

Papá speaks first, “ _Supongo que no debería hablar en voz alta_ .” Xavier nods in his general direction. “ _Me disculpo en nombre de sus hermanos. Seamos honestos, nunca lo harán por su cuenta_.”

“ _Marina dijo que algunos de ellos querían que yo muriera, lo cual es_ increíblemente grosero.” Xavier emphasises the “incredibly rude” aspect of the sentence. It’s a complete understatement but it’s the only words he can use to describe it.

“ _Bueno, Marina me arrastró aquí para decirte que no te culpo ni a ti ni a tu gente por esto. Honestamente, ni siquiera me molesta. Tus hermanos, sin embargo, no lo son. No pienses ni por un minuto que estoy de acuerdo con lo que ellos quieren que hagas,_ ” He stops and takes a breath. Mumbling, he remarks, “ _No sé qué haría si alguno de ustedes muriera_.”

Xavier wraps his head around it all- of course he doesn’t blame him and he isn’t bothered by it. He would be disowned if Papá had cared. Marina would have to have dragged him here, she knows where he lives, and nobody else does.

“ _Lo siento. Luché en una sola batalla. Ni siquiera quería una guerra, ni siquiera estoy seguro de si estoy feliz de haber ganado todavía. Lo único que sé es que no me arrepiento de haber roto el hombro de Léo; Honestamente se lo merecía,_ ” Xavier speaks so fast he can hardly catch his breath.

Papá watches him, nodding along- soaking in everything. He could tell that he wasn’t sure about everything. He knew that he wasn’t sorry about Léo’s shoulder. He knew so much.

“ _No te castigues por eso. Se acabó_ .” Papá stands up and sits back down next to Xavier for comfort. “ _Eres mi hijo y todavía me preocupo por ti. Quiero que seas lo mejor que puedas_.”

Xavier knows that he’s beating himself up over everything and he can only nod when Papá pulls him into a hug.

Even as he cries over everything, he knows it’ll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> It's alluded to that the Spanish colonies, and Spain himself, have a mental disorder that makes them irrationally angry and violent with certain triggers. Most of them have IED (Intermittent Explosive Disorder), a disorder where they have intermittent bouts of rage or irritability due to certain stimulae.
> 
> The ones who do not have it are Coahuila and New Mexico.
> 
> Anonymous comments disabled to prevent anonymous hellraising.


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